


Accidentally?

by SharkGirl



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: ALternate Universe - Businessmen, Aged-Up Character(s), Awkwardness, CEO!Akashi, Drabble, Drunk Texting, Hangover, M/M, Meme, Mentions of Male Genitalia, Salaryman!Furihata, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: Furihata wanted to crawl into a hole and die. No, better yet, have the floor open up beneath him and suck him into the pits of hell. Anything would be better than what surely lay in store for him.Written for AkaFuri Day 2017!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this.  
> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/ArfMeasures/status/834535657393504256).
> 
> Un-beta'd. Please enjoy!!

Furihata wanted to crawl into a hole and die. No, better yet, have the floor open up beneath him and suck him into the pits of hell. Anything would be better than what surely lay in store for him.

He’d been sitting at his desk, minding his own business, when a co-worker approached him to relay the message that the boss wanted to see him. The boss! The CEO of the Akashi Corporation who, only yesterday, had congratulated Furihata on a job well done.

One might ask why this was a bad thing.

After Akashi Seijuurou – in all his magnificent glory – came down twenty floors to Furihata’s level to thank him personally for his contribution on the their latest acquisition, the brunet not only failed to accept the compliment like a normal person. No. He also had to go and stutter like a fool, spill his coffee onto the CEO’s very expensive-looking shoes, and then practically crack their skulls together in his attempt to bow low in apology.

All-in-all, he’d been a complete and utter embarrassment.

So, why was Akashi calling him up to his office now? He wasn’t sure. Maybe to speak with him regarding his dreadful behavior from the day before? Or, Furihata swallowed as he realized the most likely scenario, Akashi had planned on firing him.

At least he’d do it where everyone else wouldn’t be able to bear witness. A kindness Furihata didn’t deserve after embarrassing the redhead publicly less than twenty-four hours earlier.

With a heavy sigh, the brunet pressed the button for the elevator and waited for it to arrive. He heard a ding, but it wasn’t from the doors before him. It came from inside his jacket. A second later, the elevator doors opened and he walked in, fishing around his pocket for his phone.

He pulled it out and saw that he’d received a message from Takao Kazunari, his good friend from college. It read,

_‘Sorry about last night, Furi! I hope the cab driver got you home okay. Let’s go out drinking again!’_

Furihata scrubbed his face with his free hand and groaned. He was still feeling the effects from his friend’s attempt at cheering him up. Takao had insisted on taking him out to get over his public humiliation and ended up getting him completely plastered.

The brunet’s head gave a powerful throb and he rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb. His message alert went off a second time and he glanced down. Once again it was from Takao.

_‘Did you end up sending that pic? Shin-chan said he never got it.’_

A picture? What picture was he talking about?

He vaguely recollected Takao jokingly telling him to send his boyfriend a ‘dick pic’ to get a rise out of the other man. Of course, in his confusion, Furihata had taken a picture of his own rather than Takao’s.

“Oh God,” he moaned. He sincerely hoped he hadn’t sent a picture of his package to his friend’s boyfriend. No matter how ‘hilarious’ Takao thought it would be.

He backed out of Takao’s message and saw that he had, in fact, sent an attachment in a different conversation. He leaned forward and banged his head against the brass doors of the elevator, the lift still ascending to the top floor.

Furihata opened the message and, sure enough, there it was: a picture of his junk.

Lovely. 

But wait. Something wasn’t right. The number to which he’d sent the attachment wasn’t Midorima’s. He had the other man’s contact information saved. This was a completely new number.

Panic flooded his system like ice water through his veins. Just who had received that blurry, poorly lit photo?

The elevator doors opened with a soft whoosh and he found himself walking forward on numb legs. He gazed at the number, trying to figure out where he’d seen it before. Did it belong to someone he’d met at the bar? Was it one he’d seen on an advertisement? Or maybe it was from the taxi company whose driver had taken him home?

He stopped when he reached a dark, mahogany door, the polished wood glistening in the light. His gaze trailed up to the gold letters, printed onto the etched glass, which read, ‘Akashi Seijuurou, CEO.’

Then it hit him. The reason the number looked so familiar. He flashed back to the day before.

_“You really helped us a lot, Furihata-kun,” Akashi said, handing him his card. “Please let me know when you’re free. I’d love to get your input on future projects.”_

Furihata came back to himself, his entire body shaking. The number was from Akashi’s card. He’d sent a picture of his genitals to his boss. His boss!

He needed to get out of there. He couldn’t possibly face him now. He turned on his heel, ready to beat feet back to the elevator, when the door opened. An older woman poked her head out, looking around before she spotted him.

“Ah, you must be Furihata-kun!” she greeted. “Akashi-san is expecting you.” She walked out and took her seat behind a desk just outside the door – one Furihata hadn’t even noticed when he'd first arrived. “Go on in.” She smiled. “Mustn’t keep him waiting.” Then she winked.

Furihata wanted to die. He silently prayed for something, _anything_ to save him from his fate. But no savior came, so he walked into the office, the heavy door clicking softly shut behind him. He gulped, his eyes trained on the floor.

“Please have a seat.”

He snapped his head up, expecting to see Akashi turn around in his chair, stroking a cat’s fur like a Bond villain. But, instead, he found the other man to be out of his seat, one hip propped against his desk as he leaned to the side. He held two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of something extremely expensive-looking in the other.

“Furihata…Kouki, was it?” he asked, crimson eyes boring into the brunet’s. “Go on, sit down.”

This time, Furihata did as he was told.

“Do you know why I called you in here?” He set a glass in front of Furihata and began pouring his own, a slight smirk on his lips.

Furihata thought of a million excuses, but all he managed to get out was, “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic?”

Akashi froze mid-pour and turned his head, blinking owlishly at him. “…accidentally?”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a story based on that tweet and well...here it is!  
> You can imagine how the story ends.
> 
> Before anyone points this out, Akashi has all of his employees' numbers saved in his work phone.  
> OR  
> He easily looked up Furihata's number in their employee database.  
> Take your pick :D
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumbrlr.com)!


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